“Am I a gentleman?”
Philip’s truthfulness made it difficult for him to answer, but he was naturally polite.
“Oh, well, you’re different,” he said. “You’re American, aren’t you?”
“I suppose we may take it that only Englishmen are gentlemen,” said Weeks gravely.
Philip did not contradict him.
“Couldn’t you give me a few more particulars?” asked Weeks.
Philip reddened, but, growing angry, did not care if he made himself ridiculous.
“I can give you plenty.” He remembered his uncle’s saying that it took three generations to make a gentleman: it was a companion proverb to the silk purse and the sow’s ear. “First of all he’s the son of a gentleman, and he’s been to a public school, and to Oxford or Cambridge.”
“Edinburgh wouldn’t do, I suppose?” asked Weeks.
“And he talks English like a gentleman, and he wears the right sort of things, and if he’s a gentleman he can always tell if another chap’s a gentleman.”